


The Renegade

by thestruidora



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angels, Angst, Apocalypse, Car Sex, Dean Winchester Needs a Hug, Dean Winchester Needs to Use Actual Words, Dirty Talk, Edging, F/M, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Love Triangle, Miscommunication, Obsessive Behavior, Oral Sex, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Possessive Behavior, Praise Kink, Romance, Sam Winchester Needs Forgiveness, Shower Sex, Smut, Soulmates, thigh riding
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-05-06
Packaged: 2021-02-27 12:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22486975
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestruidora/pseuds/thestruidora
Summary: An angel is a spiritual creature, who dwells in heaven and serves as a messenger between God and the human race. They have no desires of their own, that is to say, they have not been given free will, as with men, and were created with the sole purpose of giving glory and fulfilling their Lord’s plan. For this reason, Eva would always be a renegade amongst her kin. A fallen angel receives no compassion or mercy, it is a black sheep strayed from its flock.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s), Sam Winchester/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 26





	1. Wheel in the Sky

**Author's Note:**

> This is gonna be a big story, it has actually lived in my head for many years now. Hope it brings you joy.

“ _The wheel in the sky keeps on turning  
I don't know where I'll be tomorrow  
Wheel in the sky keeps me yearning”  
— Journey_

**Then**

“Elyon, why couldn’t you have stayed calm, for once!” Maya’s voice ringed across the field, exasperated. There were harsh lines forming in her forehead, the knuckles of her hands bright white from the pressure applied in there. “Instead of flying off the handle, like always.”

The birds that lived on top of the high pine trees didn’t seem to mind her loudness, chirping away, unbothered, much like the posture of the other woman that listened attentively as her friend spoke on the verge of shouting.

“He knows how to push my buttons, ok?” Elyon’s reply annoyed Maya even more. The way she just shrugged off her reasoning so nonchalantly, playfully almost.

“I bet so, he was the one that put them there in the first place.” Her hands were on her hips now, not in the way used to sass someone one may think of themselves as being superior to, more so in the way one might use in the process of reprimanding an ill behaved child.

“Shut up.” Elyon chose to say, disregarding any possible truth in her friend’s statement.

Backing down or giving up now wasn’t an option, she knew that much. When she made the decision to bring forward her concerns to Michael she knew it could left, easily. As it did.

Growing up with archangels for brothers was a challenge, being that they were literally seen as royalty in Heaven. As immediate decedents to God himself, the first angels to be created and the first line of soldiers of the Lord, they occupied a holy place within the garrison. Superiors in the build in angelic hierarchy. And she was their baby sister.

But gone were days in which Heaven could be called true paradise. God had simply disappeared with no notice or goodbye, leaving no guidelines for his children, that were now placed in charge of the whole Earth and it’s well being. At least that was how it was supposed to be.

Something was moving underneath the perfectly constructed structure of Heaven, Elyon could feel it. Whispers were being campaigned about the death of God, and that without Him, Scripture meant nothing. Therefore, Earth and all the humans that inhibited it meant even less. It was a dangerous route to go by, over boarding on blasphemy. And even if those that openly diminished the importance of human lives were heavily punished, those that did it in the shadows were the true liability.

There was some form of plot unfolding amongst the angels, and Elyon suspected the worse. Because the only way to truly get rid of the responsibility that was taking care of Earth, would be to bring paradise to all the imperfect living creatures. And that meant initiating the events of the Book of Revelations¹, the ones that precede the Apocalypse.

If that was true, all of Heaven and Hell would be painted red due to the war that was about to break. And even though angels were no strangers to war, Elyon feared losing her brothers and sisters, she feared the deaths of billions of humans, and mostly, she was terrified of the rising of Lucifer and the repercussions that would follow it.

Seeing her most beautiful brother, the Light Bringer², after all of this time locked up in a cage, after all of those years fighting off the demons he created himself, yet again trying to rival with their own Father… Seeing the _Devil_ would mean facing the reality of her broken family.

Since the war in Heaven, seen in the Book of Daniel³, nothing was the same. Lucifer was thrown the pits of Tartarus⁴, but that didn’t meant that his view on humans was imprisoned with him. Lots of angels secretly agreed, loads still do. And because of the _hairless apes_ violent nature, soon Earth decayed into the bounds of deprivation.

What succeed was painful to watch. Gabriel, Elyon’s most beloved bother, left Heaven right after God did, and Michael became the ultimate ruler, as it was his birthright. But more and more she realized that her oldest brother had turned cold and uncompassionate. Letting high ranked angels like Zachariah make the shots while he pondered away, not caring for the suffering that continued to rain down upon the human race.

She have had enough, but when confronting him with her fears and suspicions, she was met with incredulity and rage.

“Angels are warriors of God, His presence resides within ours, and we were made to honer and represent Him. Especially in times such as this, where His guidance is lacking. There is no war emerging, and if it is, we’ll do everything to stop it, not initiate it. The fact that you came to me with this proves that you’re still a _child_. Nothing but a silly child with a mind filled with childish ideas.” He had said to her, anger cutting around the edges of her ego as he scolded at her as if a principal to a schoolgirl.

After that, she saw red. What proceed was a vicious fight that half the garrison overheard. But it was pointless, neither of them ready to make concessions.

“Well, I hope you’re happy now. You’ve hurt your cause forever.” Maya’s words brought Elyon’s mind back to the moment at hand, in the field.

It was dusk, the sky merging the shades of pink, orange and lilac into the dark blue of the night slowly. The grass pricked underneath their bare feet as they stood in the old space used for battle training once upon a time. It felt like thousands of years ago, when everything was ok. When all of their existences had a clear purpose and they didn’t need to make sense of anything for themselves, because their Father was there to make sure every single act was meaningful.

“Like he would have believed me if I had done anything different.” Elyon heard herself in her own head, over processing the sentence to be sure she had no doubts about it herself. Because to be mistaken now would mean having a price too big to pay.

“You could have tried to…”

“There’s nothing I could have said, Maya. He won’t listen. He doesn’t want it to be true.” She walked over to the small lake that resided in the alcove of the garden that grew in the deserted land. Her feet playing with the water just so she didn’t need to be still while under the scrutinizing gaze of her friend.

“Shit, _I_ don’t it to be true. Do you?” Maya sounded scared now, voice trembling. But Elyon did not hold it against her, she was terrified herself.

“Of course not. But if it is, you know we need to do something.” She was trying to make her voice imposing, large enough to hide her insecurity.

“What can we do by ourselves? We need Michael.” Maya walked over to her now, searching for answers in the angel’s features.

“Yeah, that’s clearly not an option anymore.” She pushed her shoulders back, chest forward as to show dominance. To show emotional detachment.

“Elly, just… Just say you’re sorry.” Maya rationalized, an underlying condescension in her tone that only Elyon could quite pinpoint.

“What?” Frowning, her voice got loud enough to actually scare the birds, some of them flying away to look for refuge in more distant tree tops.

“He’ll listen to you if…”

“If I show submission, if I bow down to him, the Firstborn, in all of his glory.” Her face contoured into a sarcastic sneer, revolt gathering up inside. “No, I won’t. I refuse. Especially since I’m right.”

“What good you and your pride will achieve?” Maya’s right hand came up to land in her companion’s shoulder, trying as she might to convey some soothing energy through the touch.

“Nothing if we just sit right and wait for the freaking Armageddon to unfold!” Elyon brushed Maya’s hand off, taking a step back and looking straight into her eyes now. “But if we stand together, you and I, we can gather others, build an army and stop this.”

“Can’t I make you understand that you’re having delusions of grandeur? No angel in the garrison will follow you, Michael is our leader.” Maya took a step closer, wanting to cure her sister from this combative thoughts.

“ _Our_ leader?” One of her eyebrows arched, and Elyon knew she was screaming at that point.

“Yes! Am I crazy to miss the simpler times? Where we all fought as one, when we all saw things the same way…” Maya’s voice followed suit, getting higher by default, except the last part was whispered. “But I guess that was before some of us developed their own ambitions.”

“Ambitions? Do you think this is about me? About some sorta vendetta against the big brother, that I’ve grew tired of being in his shadow?” Elyon’s head tipped back while she laughed bitterly. “Is that really how you see me, as some immature _child_ that’s just dying to rebel and stick it to the big man?”

“What else I’m supposed to think, Elly? You’re not listening to reason.” Maya tried, speaking softer.

“Reason is a meticulously fabricated lie, a product they have been selling to us our whole existence, Maya.” Her tone had got serious, becoming almost ominous. “I’m done with it. If there’s nothing that can be done from the inside, I’m going _outside_.”

“Excuse me? What…” The wheels turned in Maya’s head as her sister cocked her head diagonally, daring her to continue. “Elyon, you don’t mean going to Earth.” Big eyed, she shook her head, rejecting the premise. “No! You can’t, our orders were the exact opposite of that. We are to not interfere with the angels that are already down there, your presence can ruin their mission. Elly, what you are talking about is… Is a crime.” She lectured, even though that wasn’t much of a surprise to Elyon.

“Well, I’ve tried the defensive and that blew up in my face. Now I’m trying the offensive, see how that works out for me.” She walked across the field gain, distancing herself. Shoulders tensing as she turned, letting Maya face her back.

“But!”

“And if I take a spill it’s me and not you.” Her brows were furrowed as she slightly tilted her head to the side, only allowing the other angel to see the profile of her face.

“Elyon, please, sister. Reconsider.” Voice running low, Maya knew that once her friend had made a choice, there was no convincing her to back down.

“I know you want the best for me.” Elyon sighed, giving up on the indifferent facade and turning back to Maya, stepping in closer once again, watery eyes. “I know you want to believe in your leader and to be the good soldier you were trained to be. But something menacing is coming, can’t you…” Question hanging in the air, suspended. Eyes trailing off into the night sky, focusing in the horizon.

“What is it?” Maya asked, murmuring in apprehension, trying to see whatever it was Elyon was seeing.

Then, the entire garden stood still, no more wind blowing through the leaves, no more crickets rubbing their wings together briskly. An owl emitted a shrill hoot far away in the south, frightening the birds in such a way that they all flew away.

“Something’s happening.” Elyon proclaimed.

The ground underneath their feet shook, a vibration coming from all around and putting pressure on their bodies. Maya’s balance faltered, and she almost fell before Elyon held her by the elbows, bending her knees to secure herself up. There was a cosmic push that reverberated through Heaven, appearing from below and upwards. And as both angels stared at each other, a sense of recognition took hold in both of their expressions.

“There’s no way.” It was Maya’s turn to get watery eyes, as she sucked in a breath as if her life depended on it.

“The first seal just broke. John Winchester’s firstborn succumbed in Hell.” Elyon was still looking up, watching as the sky settled. “It started.”

“Don’t go.” Maya begged.

“I need to stop this.”

**Now**

One Month Later

A meteor has hit Lawrence, Kansas.

It was allover the news. When the clock stroke midnight on March 17, a blinding light took over the sky and it flashed so fast and so sudden that it looked like a fallen star. It landed right on the side of one of the main roads in the city, creating a crater that overtook the busy intersection and would need to be repaired as quickly as possible.

The funny part was that when the place of the crash went into further examination, the area had no apparent masses of rock formation to be found. It seemed as if whatever had hit the ground that night, had vanished completely. But none of that information ever became public, of course.

Even funnier was the fact that, however, that wasn’t the only inexplicable thing that happened in that very same moment. Because far away from there, in a deserted graveyard in Pontiac, Illinois, Dean Winchester had been resurrected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹The Book of Revelations is the final book of the New Testament, and therefore also the final book of the Christian Bible. Revelation is an apocalyptic prophecy with an epistolary introduction addressed to seven churches in the Roman province of Asia. "Apocalypse" means the revealing of divine mysteries; John is to write down what is revealed (what he sees in his vision) and send it to the seven churches.  
> ²Lucifer ('light-bringer') is a Latin name for the planet Venus in its morning appearances, and is often used for mythological and religious figures associated with the planet.  
> ³The Book of Daniel is a 2nd-century BC biblical apocalypse combining a prophecy of history with an eschatology which is both cosmic in scope and political in its focus.  
> ⁴In Greek mythology, Tartarus is the deep abyss that is used as a dungeon of torment and suffering for the wicked and as the prison for the Titans. Tartarus is the place where souls are judged after death and where the wicked received divine punishment.


	2. It’s The End Of The World As We Know It

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Each chapter is going to be named after a song from the original soundtrack for the story, so feel free to listen to it while reading or just giving a try if you never heard of any of them. I, of course, recommend them.

“ _This means no fear, cavalier, renegade and steering clear  
A tournament, a tournament, a tournament of lies  
Offer me solutions, offer me alternatives and I decline”  
— R.E.M._

Dean was on the ground. The ghost of Meg Maters towered over him, kicking his stomach ceaselessly. In the midst of the building pain he had time to also feel remorse, because retroactively, he felt like he truly deserved this beating.

“Meg.” He said, trying to come up with something he could possibly say to her that would make this horrible sensation that had been eating him inside go away, but nothing even crossed his mind.

“Do you know what happened to my little sister, Dean? When she saw my body in the morgue? All beaten up, broken…” Meg leaned closer, and he didn’t have it in him to try and reach for his salt gun just yet.

He could see youthfulness in her features clearly, now that her face was clean of the harsh makeup that the demon had put on her. She was only a victim, a college girl with a whole future ahead of her. And she was screaming for help, for his help, and he threw her from the top of a building.

“Do you know what that did to her? She killed herself!” She kicked the hardest then, punctuating her words, anger dripping off of her.

He deserved this beating. He deserved to be punished. He was no hero. He was a bad person scrambling to be better by saving as many people as he could, but he failed. He failed his father. He did the most horrible things, the worst imaginable things in Hell, and now he could never be the man his father wanted him to be. The one he had trained him to be.

He deserved this beating.

“Because of you, Dean! Because all you were thinking about was your family, your revenge and your demons. Fifty words of Latin a little sooner, and I’d still be alive. My baby sister would still be alive.” He was looking up at her from the floor, his senses a bit thrown off, but he could have sworn he heard something coming from the hallway in Bobby’s house. “That blood is on your hands, Dean!” She shouted, getting his attention back.

“You’re right.” He let himself say from under his breath.

He deserved to be punished.

“Ah!” She gave out this anguished grunt, going back to kicking and kicking as hard as she could muster, her ghost form owning an enhanced strength.

He groaned from the pain, attempting to craw away from her and catch the salt gun that she had pushed from his hands. But Meg realized that, doubling the power of her assault.

Her voice ringed in his ears. “Blood on your hands, Dean!” she yelled over and over, hysterically attacking his lower body with blow after blow as the sole of her shoes smacked his abdomen even as he tried to protect himself, closing his eyes and ducking his head into his shoulders, arms tucked in front of his torso.

“Meg, please, just listen to…” He was going to argue again when suddenly everything stopped, simply went still, there were no more screams or hits, just silence. “Me.”

By the time he glanced upwards, she was gone. Standing in her place instead, was yet another female figure. He tried to push his memory, searching for a match of her unfamiliar face amongst the people that he hadn’t been able to save. But even in the rush of the moment, Dean was positive that this girl was a completely new character.

“Who are you?” He demanded, moving fast, finally getting to his gun, keeping a finger on the trigger and pointing it right at her as he got up.

She just let him gather himself as she stood there, eyebrows crocked and arms crossed. She had a little smirk at the corner of her lips, as if she found the loaded weapon that hovered inches away from her head to be the cutest thing she ever seen.

“Settle down, cowboy, don’t strain yourself.” Her voice was low and full, laced with a heavy tone of sarcasm.

He looked up, noticing an old chandelier that appeared to be made entirely of iron, suspended above them, dangling right over the mystery girl’s frame. He raised his arm, changing the aim of the gun he held and in a fast decision, he shot, hitting the piece of furniture right at it’s connector to the ceiling.

The lighting fixture gave out immediately, falling straight down onto her. Due to it’s circular design, the middle of the chandelier was hollow enough that it just contoured around her body, coursing through her and landing at the floor with a bang. But she didn’t even flinch, and keeping the same posture as before, she steeped forward, out of the ring of iron, coming face to face with him.

Dean leaned back slightly, but held her intense gaze head on, like a distrusting dog who was still sniffing around and analyzing a new member of the pack.

 _This chick is different_ , he thought to himself.

To the untrained, she looked fairly normal, average looking. She was short, he realized, when he had to look down to exam her. Her hair was curly, tight and coiled, with a length that reached just a little below her shoulders. Ebony black colored at first glance, but under closer inspection, it was a dark warm brown. It was big, fluffy and voluminous, messy bangs touching her eyebrows and framing her face. Her skin was dark with an olive undertone that shined in an almost golden way under the right light.

But there was something about her eyes, though, the way that the russet colored irises didn’t showed any emotion. She had this whole sassy smirk thing going on, sure, but it never reached her eyes. Like there was nothing or no one _inside_.

“You’re not a ghost.” He said, slowly, lines forming in his forehead as he concentrated on her movements, ready for any sudden changes or red flags.

“No, I’m not. And I would have told that if you were just a tad bit more polite and asked first, shot later.” She stated, matter-of-factly, the side smirk turning into a full grin as she looked at him as if they had known each other for all of their lives.

“Yeah, that’s not really my style, Shortstop.” He clapped back, referring to her small build, earning a quick slip of annoyance from her facial features before she put her untouchable act back on. Now he knew that he could get to her if he had to, and he liked that knowledge. “Plus, you should thank me, I could have shot _you_ instead of the chandelier.”

She scoffed then, seemly taken aback by not only his words, but also the look he held while saying them.

Dean’s face was stern, hard in a way, even as he entertained her condescending remarks with his. As if he could simply kill her, right there, at any minute, without batting an eye.

“Yes, and _that_ would have been a waste of perfectly good bullets.” She shrugged, turning on her heels, her hair wafting in his face as she just started walking away from him down the hallway in a fast pace.

“Who the hell are you?” He shouted, going after her.

“C’mon, your brother is in the junkyard.” He heard her say, before she turned down the corner of the hallway and disappeared into thin air.

“Son of a bitch!” Dean yelled, frustrated, and started running.

* * *

Sam was desperate.

“Bobby!” He kept looking around, frantic, taking urgent breaths of air as time ran out. “I’m here, Bobby!”

He opened yet another trunk of one of the many old cars stacked upon each other in Bobby’s junkyard, but, like the others before, it was empty.

“Shit!” Sam cussed, feeling the droplets of sweat gather in his forehead, strands of his hair getting attached to it.

His hands were bleeding from the minor cuts inflicted on them by his haziness as he handled another one of the cars, holding the crowbar tightly in one hand, not caring for his own pain when the man that raised him like a father had his life on the line.

A ghost had Bobby, and Sam was right there, but couldn’t find him. He felt impotent, unable to save the ones he loved, out of control.

“Bobby!” He screamed, vision blurred as all of the cars started to look the same in that maze of rusty metal.

“He’s up there.” A voice spoke, unmistakably female, and it cut through all of overwhelming sounds of blood rushing in his ears.

Head turning, he saw her, squinting a bit to focus on the curious figure that was the woman. She was walking firmly, a sureness emanating from her pores, her eyes didn’t glance him when she advanced in his direction and snatched the crowbar from his hold. Out of complete astonishment, he just let her, stunned as she took the piece of iron and passed him, all without granting him a single look.

“Who…” He began, the question eminent in his cadence.

“Shut up.” The brunet but barked, jaw tensed as she walked straight to a specific pile of cars, looking upwards.

Sam followed her gaze, mouth agape when he caught sight of the vehicle at the very top. The whole thing was covered in a shin of frost, indicating the characteristic coldness that came with ghost activity.

“Sam!” The younger Winchester heard his brother’s call coming from behind them as Dean entered the threshold, coming in running to stop shakily at Sam’s side.

He stopped to stare at Dean, searching for answers regarding the strange girl, but found his brother’s expression to be even more dumbfounded as Dean fixated his gaze her way.

“What the fuck?” Dean whispered, eyes rounding up in surprise, and when Sam drifted his view to focus on her doing again, he understood why.

“Holy shit.” Sam let out in agreement.

The woman was climbing the tall stack of metal, quick fluid movements took her higher in an effortless manner. When she reached the frozen car her hands went right to the trunk, nimble fingers grabbing the door and plunging it open, knees bent and feet planted in the adjacent parts of the old tires for support.

Inside the trunk, Bobby laid forcefully, two young children at each side of him, holding him down, one had her hand covering his mouth while the other held his nose closed. Crowbar at hand, the secretive woman swung at one the ghosts of the little twin girls, and Bobby, sucking a large breath of relief, gathered his strength, took his own iron crowbar and batted at the other twin sister.

Once both of them had vanished, the brown-eyed female offered Bobby her hand, and he examined her up and down, suspicious. But she rolled her eyes, waving her hand at him, offering it more intently.

“What, you wanna get down from up here alone, old man?” She provoked, body language relaxed as the teasing seemed to be second nature to her.

Bobby’s face contoured in a scowl, still panting, and he fixed the cap in his head before accepting her hand. Without much exertion she got the two of them to the ground safely, handling the bearded man’s weight in the way down while she helped him as if it was nothing.

By the time they got there, Sam already had his hands in Bobby’s shoulders, wanting to make sure he was okay, Dean close behind him. When he nodded, signalizing his wellness without words, all eyes turned to the furtive lady, silently ordering explanations.

She exhaled one single waft of air, harshly, face unreadable whilst she took open herself to fix her bangs, getting them out of her eyes, the mess of curls untameable as she ignored the building tension between the three man and herself.

“Seriously, woman, who are you?!” Dean exclaimed, finally grabbing her attention.

* * *

They had all entered Bobby’s house, Dean and the older man going around all entrees, doors and windows, salting them and making sure it was ghost-proof. Sam stayed in the living room with the dark-skinned girl, arms crossed as he burned her with his intense gaze, gun poking out the waistband of his jeans.

She didn’t seemed to mind it much, though, choosing to disregard his presence entirely, finding the nearest chair and accommodating herself, eyelids closed as she sighed, black boot tapping an unknown tune on the wooden floor.

“Alright, start talking.” Dean bid, a charging force in the way he commended, his hazel irises staring down at her with impatience when himself and Bobby finished their task and joined Sam and the chilled woman in the living room.

She scoffed in response, eyes springing open, head tilting subtly and then back to look at the oldest Winchester directly in the eye, tick black strands of hair bouncing with the motion, a lofty smile plastered on her lips. One of he’s brows arched, challenging, but she dismissed it, getting up from her chair and making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Is there any nonalcoholic drink in this place? I feel like I just ran a marathon.” Casually, she opened Bobby’s fridge, bending low to look at the products that it contained in it’s fullness. “Aha!” She called out, triumphant, finding a bottle of water in the bottom of the fridge, most probably Sam’s.

Not caring for the irritable man and their intolerant stance, she cracked the lid of the bottle open and took a long gulp, reentering the living room and stopping to stand in the middle of them. Sam’s mouth parted, ready say something, but she raised her pointer finger at him, still chugging. The hunters shared incredulous looks, noticing how most of the water disappeared as she drank.

After a couple of seconds, the bottle was almost empty, and she finally released it from her lips, the mounts of flesh looking plumper and wet from the suction.

“My name is Eva.” Her voice came out breathy, and she let out a satisfied sigh. The man still stared at her, waiting for more information, and she appeared to think for an instant, before going right back to drinking. When the water was all finally gone, she continued. “And I’m an angel of the Lord.”

“Oh, fuck no!” Dean complained, a whining in the back of his throat, and he immediately went to sit in the old couch that resided by the side of the room, looking displeased with the news.

“Tell me about it, buddy.” Eva moved, spotting a trashcan where she could dispose of her used water bottle, but Sam placed himself in between her and her target, blocking the passage.

“So… You’re an angel? A real angel?” Sam’s face had lit up like a Christmas tree, hopeful puppy eyes shinning as they took her in.

“Yep. Standard – fluffy wings, halo, Michael Landon… –, real angel.” She mocked, earning a genuine laugh from the older brother, who kept his attention glued to her and Sam’s interaction from his sitting position in the couch.

“Great, so, I suppose you wouldn’t be oppose to a couple of tests?” The man’s back was hunched, he’s much taller frame making eye contact barely possible as Eva didn’t bothered to make an effort to try and bend her neck upwards to look at Sam. “Just to make sure you really are who you say you are.” His posture had changed completely since her revelation, an overly respectfulness pouring out him, slipping through the seams.

“Sure, Sammy, go right ahead.” She smiled an ironic smile, overjoyed by the rawness in the shaggy-haired man.

But he didn’t notice any malice, or chose not to, and she leaned against a wall, Bobby and Dean giving her the stink still, as Sam gathered salt, holy water, silver… The works, minus the iron that Dean had already discarded.

He got close to her when he had everything, placing the items atop of Bobby’s dusty desk. Corning her smaller figure with his, Sam proceed to go about every test, leaving the silver for last, an apologetic look consuming him as he took her hand in his to cut into her skin with the special blade.

When their fingers grazed each other, an electric wave went through his body, a frown forming in his brows as he flinched, a pleasant stream of goosebumps traveling from his neck outwards, the hairs standing in alarm. But Sam shook his head, trying to mask it with a shrug and focus on the task at hand. Except Eva noticed, her responses to the tests varying from minimum to none up to that point, but becoming aware of Sam’s shift in behavior, she grinned wickedly with mischief, until the silver actually sliced into the palm of her hand and her nose wrinkled, not particularly from the pain, but more so from the startle.

“Ouch.” She lamented, pouting childishly, her taunting tone still lost on Sam.

“Sorry.” He murmured, a kind smile on his lips. “Ok… Hum.” He stepped away from her, hands tapping on the pockets of his pants while he tried not to stare at the thin layer of blood pooling at the wound he had caused. “I guess now we’ve established that you truly are an…”

“No, no, no.” Dean interjected, abandoning his gun on the couch where he sat to come and stand close to his brother. “We’ve just established that she has no reaction to the tests, that an angel does not make.” He motioned at Eva as to demonstrate his point, but not truly acknowledging her presence as he spoke to Sam as if she wasn’t there.

Baffled, the woman moved quickly from her laid-back position by the wall, putting herself in between them, intending to say her piece, but right before she could speak, it was Sam’s voice that filled the living room.

“She climbed that pile of cars in the junkyard and saved Bobby like it was nothing, Dean. She passed the tests. What else do you want?” The younger Winchester’s reply was slightly more heated than his usual tone, as if he _needed_ her angelic nature to be true.

Eva was ready to give an answer, only to be interrupted be Dean.

“I don’t know, she’s the divine entity among us. Gives a miracle!” He uttered, finding Sam’s disconcerted gasp to be the most comical thing he had seen all day.

Coming to terms with the fact that she was probably not going to be able to get a word in while the siblings were competing amongst themselves, Eva rolled her eyes, sighing in withdrawal, Bobby emitting a similar sound as he went to sit behind his book filled table, way more used to their bickering than she was. At the same time, the coagulating red liquid that sat on the gash in the palm of her right hand caught her attention, and with a clear idea in her head, she exposed the cut so that all of them could see.

“You’re such a jerk…” Sam began, chest puffed, ready to fight Dean on this if he had to.

He was so tired of his brother’s negativity and disbelief, because he had tried so hard, prayed to every power on Earth he knew to get Dean back from Hell, but now that they a second change, a God giving one at that, his brother was set on his protest campaign.

Dean’s shoulders went back, hazel irises scanning Sam’s taller build as if to find the weakest stop to punch. He was tired himself, and if he heard about his own holy ‘salvation from damnation’ _one more time_ , it was about to be _wreck it time_. But sooner than he could react, Sam’s demeanor changed and he wasn’t even looking at Dean no more, his darker hazel eyes focused on something else. Following his gaze downwards, Dean got his brother’s astonished expression.

The wound had closed itself, right before their eyes. The layers of derm reintegrating seamlessly, leaving no trace of blood or scar, only smooth skin.

“Wow.” Sam let out, earnestly bemused.

“Is that miracle enough for you?” Eva inquired, sounding smug.

“See?” Sam gestured to her, a hopefulness resting in the way he frowned his brows at Dean, who shrugged in response, looking unimpressed. “Okay, look. I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof.”

“Oh, please, many bozos we hunt can regenerate like that.” Dean gave Eva a passing look, not liking the stoic expression that overtook her as he decided that she and her angelic powers weren’t intimidating _at all_. “This proves nothing.”

“Goddammit, Dean!” Sam’s voice went up considerably, stumbling on the verge of a yell. “Why are you being so stubborn about this? What is it with you and this religion vendetta all of the sudden?” Dean moistened his lips, smacking them together tightly, his serious face on, making his younger brother paddle back and lower his tone. “Why can’t you just believe it? Maybe, for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know?”

Dean actually scoffed then, not caring for the possible angel standing next to him.

“You want to believe that! You want so desperately to believe that there’s a higher power, a grand force watching over us, sweet little angels finally coming to gives backup!” The sarcasm dripped from his words in tick, heavy chunks, a vicious nature blooming out to protect the real feelings inside.

“And you want desperately not to, why? Why can’t you fathom the possibility that you were chose by that higher power? That you deserve to be saved!” Sam clapped back.

“Because why me? If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?” The fight in Dean had broke down a bit as his arms were raised and he genuinely asked now.

“For fuck’s sake, didn’t you guys had this same discussion this morning?” Eva interrupted, sounding bored. She still stood in between the siblings, thumbs hooked to the belt straps of her jean pants in a lazed stance.

There was a dead beat of silence, in which the only sound that could be heard in the space was of the man’s breathing as they took in what had been said, needing a couple of seconds to process it fully.

“You were watching us?” Dean’s voice got low, real low, rough as he emitted the sound from his chest, each word being said slowly as his entire focus was shifted to the new information.

“Well… yeah.” The reply came fast, as if that realization was obvious to everyone in Eva’s mind. “I’m a guardian angel after all, I’ve been watching you your whole lives.” She explained.

“Say what now?” Sam and Dean questioned, simultaneously.

Seeing the clear confusion imprinted on their faces, the angel exhaled one single puff of breath, allowing her long nails to scratch the back of her scalp in an outwards motion that only served to make the busy head of hair look even larger and fuller in size.

“Ok, I guess we’re gonna have to take it all the way back to the basics, then.” Eva tried to look at Sam as she said the words, quickly deciding that to stare at the tall man in the eyes from her low position was _way to_ _o_ _big_ of an effort, choosing Dean as the closest alternative, even as disappointment rushed throughout her being when confronted by the reality that even the shorter brother was _w_ _ay_ _to_ _o_ _big_ for comfort from where she was standing. “Angels are divided into classes. A hierarchy. And I’m in the bottom of it, having to deal with your shenanigans.”

The patronizing way she said it disarmed both Winchesters, the news throwing them for a loop.

“You’re our guardian angel?” Dean’s head was spinning, the color draining from his face.

“Technically just Sam’s.” When her answer was met with even more confusion from the dark blonde haired man, Eva continued. “Don’t worry, you have one too, everybody does.”

“Well, let me tell you one thing.” He started, body turning to the brunet completely.

“Dean.” Sam said in a warning tone, trying to stop whatever was coming. But his plead was being bulldozed by his brother voice before anyone could hear it.

“You guys are the worst in your jobs, like truly.” The intensity in his statement was palpable as he stared the young woman down. “All of the horrors that me and Sam had to go through, and you’re telling me that guardian angels are real, and they watch over us our whole lives, and that they are supposed to be protecting us?” An exasperation build in Dean the more he spoke, pint up energy being vented out into the room while he proceed. “Then, excuse my french, but where the fuck have y’all been all this time?”

Sam's breathing was shallow as an avalanche of words, oh so many words, popped up in his mind all at once; _blasphemy, sin, ingratitude, insubordination, highway (back) to Hell_ …

“Eva, I’m so so…” He attempted to say, an apology at the tip of his tongue, but the girl’s comeback came faster.

“Oh, bless you heart, Goldilocks.” As the first note of scornful melody hit Dean’s eardrums, combined with the expression of pure commitment in Eva’s face, he knew he was in for a ride. “You think our existences revolve around you humans, that every time you throw yourselves in front of fricking monsters we are suppose to lay our lives for your safety?” She gave out a nasal laugh, a snarky attitude in the way she splayed out her hands, gesturing at him. “We’re soldiers, we have a job and a boss like anyone else, if the humans we’ve been assigned to like to sell their souls every time their brother dies – _which is a lot_ –, there’s not much we can do. There’s this thing called free will, we cannot intervene in the human’s decisions.” She took a step towards Dean, he’s lips pouting subconsciously in awe of her lively display. “But you know what? The way I see it, the glass is half full, Sam is still alive and walking about. I’m definitely not employee of the month, but he’s still breathing, and that counts for something, right?”

The brown-haired man had his jaw dropped by the end of her speech, pupils traveling back and forth between the angel and his older brother, honestly just as shocked by her bluntness as the blonde appeared to be.

“Has anyone ever told you that you have a mouth on you, Sweetie?” Dean’s first instinct was to back down, sensing an almost radiant orb of power coming from Eva, the feeling reaching his skin and causing a tingling sensation that was sending mixed signals to his brain. It resided right at the fine line amidst burning and pleasure. But never the one to show cravenness, he went against his best judgment, choosing to move closer to her instead of further. He blinked for longer than usual, the connection of the strong aura being exported out of her to his pores becoming more intense with the proximity, as they stood in less then a couple of inches of distance, and Dean swallowed down a soft whimper, pulling a long breath in through his noise to distract himself from the conflicting emotions that danced in between anger and arousal.

Eva, in the other hand, seemed entirely unfazed by the whole ordeal, speaking in the same voice laced with superiority.

“Has anyone ever told you that you should respect your elders?” At the mention of age, Dean was quick to crock a brow in uncertainty before she proceeded. “I’ve been here since Creation, and I’ve saved your brother’s life countless times, even if you didn’t noticed. So watch yourself.”

A sudden wind went by the living room in that moment, the smell of the tight curled hair going straight into Dean’s nostrils, filling his lungs with one of the most beautiful scents he ever smelled. Expect that he didn’t had time to concentrate enough on it to be able to name it properly, nor come up with the next thing to say to her, because the winds got so strong that the main window in the room sprung open, making the salt line dissipate with the blow.

“Boys!” Bobby made his presence known again, trying to hold on to the multiple papers that threatened to fly off of his desk with the force of the drift coming from the window.

“What’s happening?” Sam had to scream out, the buzzing noise of the unforgiving breeze dominating the place.

“It’s the Rising of the Witness.” Eva shouted, all other matters forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapters are based strongly in the canon version of the show, with seasons 4 and 5 being the main spinal cord for the storyline, so sometimes I won't explain specific events throughout because they happen in the same fashion as in the script of the show. In this particular case, the chapter happens in the 2nd episode of season 4 — "Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester" — and the whole build up to point in the episode where the OFC comes in is actually the same, so there is no reason for me to rewrite it. This is going to happen quite a lot during this story, just a heads up.


	3. The Times They Are A-Changin’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, I know there's been a minute. Bear with me.

“ _The battle outside ragin’  
Will soon shake your windows  
And rattle your walls  
For the times they are a-changin’”  
_— Bob Dylan

“Witness? Witness to what?” Sam inquired in the midst of the confusion, the dust from Bobby’s living room being risen due to the strong winds.

“We need to go somewhere safe.” Bobby said before Eva could answer, gathering as many books as quickly as he could while he felt the atmosphere get cold, the breath he let out visible in the suddenly chilly air. “Follow me.”

They moved fast, trying to cover their eyes from the harsh air with their hands. The older man in front, guiding them as they went down through a flight of stairs into a lower level of the house that neither Sam or Dean had ever seen before. Opening a strong, tick iron door, Bobby allowed the three to enter into a special room before he got in himself, closing the door behind him.

The basement room was made entirely of iron and covered with pentagrams and Devil's traps. Sam and Dean took a good look around, not believing in what they were seeing.

“Bobby, is this...” Sam began, moving in to touch one of the walls.

“Solid iron. Completely coated in salt. 100% ghost-proof.” Bobby responded, a proud look on his face as he started to lay down the books he held on top of a small table nearby.

“You built a panic room?” Eva asked, sounding genuinely impressed, her eyes inspecting the writings on the walls.

“I had a weekend off.” Singer replied, shrugging while focused on the literature in front of him.

“Bobby.” Dean said, eyes landing on a poster of a swimsuit model that had been plastered on the wall around all other anti-supernatural symbols.

“What?”

“You're awesome.”

“I don’t know how awesome I feel right now, boy.” Bobby sighed, fixing the cap on his head and turning from his reading to the boys, receiving a puzzled look from them as he frowned in weariness. “There’s a bunch of angry ghosts out there and we can’t stay here forever.”

“We won’t have to.” Eva murmured in a distracted ton e , seemingly concentrated on the writings on the walls still, unaware of her hold on the three man’s attention on account of what she had said.

“Care to elaborate on that by any chance?” Bobby spoke when he realized she would not.

“Oh.” She finally acknowledge them, brown eyes darker in the low lighting of the panic room, a nonchalant report in her features as she proceeded to explain. “I know a spell, but I will need some things from the kitchen and the spell has to be cast over an open fire.”

“The fireplace in the library.” Sam was quick to suggest, looking fixedly at the way Eva kept trying and failing to remove the curly hair of her bangs from her forehead, as if unaccustomed to the feeling.

“Perfect.” The angel let out, giving up on the task and bringing her hands down in a frustrated motion.

“Hey, hold on a second there, Chief.” Dean’s voice filled the small area, bringing Eva’s attention in his direction, a slight grin of irritation forming by the side of her lips and in the gleam in her eyes. “My brother here is clearly infatuated by your…” His hazel orbs scanned her body up and down before he continued. “Godly attributes. But before we go anywhere near that door, risking our lives for a spell that you just pulled out your ass…”

“Oh my God.” Sam closed his eyes, head tilting up in disbelief.

“I’ma need some answers from you.” The dirty blonde haired man finished, crossing his arms on top of his chest, the muscles expanding in volume by the change in posture and creating a more imposing figure.

“Sure, Denny. I’m an open book.” The sound of Eva’s timbre was sweet and upbeat while she offered Dean two good blinks, a sarcastic smile adorning her face.

“Alright.” The older brother’s tough exterior faltered a bit as he was surprised by the angel’s cool demeanor, but taking a quick moment to clear his throat, he pulled through. “Let’s start with these ‘witnesses’. Why are they here?”

“They’ve been risen. That’s why it’s called the Rising of the Witnesses.” She responded, short and condescendingly, but the dark-skinned woman’s allusiveness was not lost on Dean.

“Who rose them?” He inquired.

“I’m not sure, but whoever it was, it did it on purpose.” The hunters shared a look, an intrigued frown in their features. “See, these ghosts, they were forced to rise. They are called Witnesses because they have witnessed the unnatural. None of them died what you'd call ordinary deaths. They woke up in agony. They were like rabid dogs. And the fact that they are all people that hunters, like yourselves, couldn’t save, it’s not a coincidence.”

“So you’re saying that who did this was targeting us?” Sam questioned.

“Most probably. Y’all do have some unfriendly acquaintances out there.” The way that she said it, so full and heavy with irony, plump lips moving around the words so slowly, finally became apparent to the taller Winchester, who gave out a puzzled look.

“And that’s why you’re here, Little Angel? To protect us?” Dean’s tone was challenging, provocative.

“Not quite.”  Eva answered, punctuating her syllab les . “ Whoever did this had big plans. These ghosts being here is just the beginning. They are a prophecy, a sign.”

“A sign of what?”  The siblings spoke together, their voices blending into each other, the same apprehension in them.

“The Apocalypse.”  Her guise didn’t shift the slightest, keeping a serene composure  while uttering her reply.

There was a sepulchral silence in the room. Bobby lowered his head and let out a long breath, a kind of recognition in his features, as if he already suspected that to be  the truth. Sam’ s eyes grew twice their seize, and he kept staring at the angel without blinking once, as if waiting for her to reveal that she had been joking. Dean’s mouth formed and reformed words that were never pronounced, his lips agape in a circular shape,  brows knitted together in deep thought as he processed the repercussions of what was said, before he finally spoke.

“Apocalypse? The apocalypse, apocalypse? The four horsemen, pestilence, $5-a-gallon-gas apocalypse?”

“That’s the one.” Eva  smiled an empty smile.

“So that’s why you’re here.”  The shaggy-haired man said, a hint of accusation as he fixated his gaze at the girl. “Angels finally come to Earth and it’s the end of it.”

“That’s what I’m trying to stop.”  She crossed her arms, tucking them underneath her breasts, sounding unaffected by the way that the Winchesters were reacting to her news. “There’s still time, but you two gotta be prepared.”  She gestured to both of them,  a superior air about her when she continued. “Big things are afoot.”

“Do I want to know what kind of things?” Dean  was quick to ask.

“I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know.”  She tipped her head to  one side,  her curls stirring gracefully with the tiniest of movements. “The Rising of the Witnesses is one of the 66 seals.”

“Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at Seaworld.” Dean  muttered from under he’s breath.

“Think of the seals as locks on a door.” Eva  explained.

“Okay.”  Sam agreed, ears and eyes very open as he focused on everything she said. “Last one opens and…?”

“Lucifer walks free.”  Her voice faltered for the first time in front of them, and all three hunters realized how her gaze didn’t met theirs.

“Lucifer?”  The eldest Winchester said it way too fast, stuttering a little as he licked his suddenly dry lips. “You mean… Satan, the Ruler of the Underworld… The Devil? That Lucifer?”

Sam began to wander along the space, hands messing with his hair from the roots to the ends in a mechanic, stress reliving manner.

“He’s been locked in a cage for a long time now, and I believe that it would be in your race’s best interest that he stayed that way.”  The curly-haired woman realized that  s he needed to regain control of the situation,  upping the volume of her timber so that it resonated trough their emotions. “And in order for that to happen, I’m going to need you and your brother’s collaboration. Got it?”

“This is crazy.” Sam blurted out, hands still ruffling his hair when he stopped moving to face the angel again.

“Look, this is not some ‘monster of the week’ bullshit no more, ok? You guys have entered the big league now.”  Eva’s deep brown eyes stared back at the light-colored ones with intention, reaching somewhere inside the hunters, somewhere that had been deemed dormant by them a long time ago, somewhere where their fears lived. “ Welcome to the end of times.”

*

They had prepared themselves to leave the panic room as well as they possibly could, filling  up many salt rounds to load their weapons with. The atmosphere in the place was cool and professional, almost sterile. The group worked in silence, the humans showing concern in their faces after the news that the angel had presented to them. She, in the other hand, helped to make the bullets in a steady pace, moving seamlessly and caring no emotion whatsoever in her features.

“So,” Dean began, once he realized that he couldn’t take the silen ce no more. “Since when do angels need guns to fight off some ghosts?” He looked over at her, realizing that she had progressed in the chore much quicker than he had. “Matter of fact, can’t you just snap your fingers and make them go back to rest?”

“If I could, I wouldn’t be stuck down here, stuffing cartridges with a condiment.” Eva didn’t make eye contact, focusing on the rough white substance that she handled, lips pursed together lightly while she felt it getting more and more under her fingernails.

“Are you always this delightful or today you’re in a special mood just for me?” Dean snapped back, finishing up and beginning to assemble his gun.

The woman let out a breath, closing her eyelids for a couple of seconds, seaming to be gathering her patience before she looked up at him with a much softer semblance.

“If they were normal ghosts, I could deal  with them much faster, except they were risen to fulfill a specific purpose, in a specific way that renders my powers obsolete towards them.” Her tone wasn’t nice per say, but it was definitely more polite than what the men had grew accustomed to up to that point, and Dean found himself without knowing what say next, before she finished off. “Happy?” The last word had such a subtle, corky mischievousness to it that made the blonde want to laugh, and he looked over at Sam for acknowledgment, receiving it right away as the younger brother was already smiling. 

“Peachy.” Dean responded, deciding to give up on taunting the angel for now.

“Alright.” Bobby said, gathering up his things while the others did the same. “Cover each other. And aim careful. Me and Eva are going to need some backup to find everything we for the spell. You boys don't run out of ammo until we’re done, or they'll shred you. Ready?”

“Not really.” Sam replied, little humor in his voice as him and Dean marched towards the door and got ready to open it. “Are you sure you know how to use that?” He asked Eva, who was holding on to her gun in a nonchalant manner.

“I saw humans discovering gunpowder, I think I can handle this.” The brunette gave the tall man a quick grin, not changing her posture in the way the held the weapon.

“Ok, then.” Dean let out, kind of enjoying the frown that was forming in his brother’s face the more he noticed the girl’s sarcastic and brass demeanor, right before he opened the door and they went on to fight  some ghosts.

*

As it turns out, Eva’s deep knowledge of the human race’s history wasn’t enough to translate the theory of fire gun’s usage into practice. From the minute they left the panic room, all the enraged ghosts from the Winchesters' past attacked them with  a vengeance, and the angel proved herself to be a terrible shot when dealing with them, not being able to once aim her weapon correctly. To the point of when the ghost of FBI Special Agent, Victor Henriksen, came upon them in Bobby’s kitchen, trying to stop them from gathering all the ingredients needed for the spell that would set the risen Witnesses back to rest,  the woman almost got Dean while attempting to shoot at the flitting spectrum.  Thankfully, his reflexes were quick and he was capable to dodge the projectile before getting hit, while Sam aimed straight into Henriksen’s chest, making him vanish into nothing.

“Ow!”  Dean exclaimed when he jumped out of the bullets reach, noticing the small tear they created in his brown leather jacket, right  at the arm. “Easy there, Tiger, don’t help us too much.” His hazel eyes glowed in  a  light,  electric green,  showing anger as he looked down at  the small brunette,  and he extended his hand out to grab the gun out of her fingers in a harsh movement, a disapproval in the way he stared, but she only shrugged.

“Ok, let’s just… Try not to die before the world ends.” Bobby said, irony in his voice as he rolled his eyes and kept moving fast, collecting everything that could be used in the spell provided by the angel.

As it were, the incantation worked, but nothing could be done about the seal that had already been broken.  Eva left them as soon as the spirits disappeared, with only the sound of wings flapping to announce her exit. And the three man wondered, without actually saying it out loud, if they could trust the yet mysterious being, and if they could, who had been the one to purposefully break that seal and send those furious ghosts towards them?

The last answer came to Dean, later that day, when the sun was already out and they all slept. In his dreams, Castiel came to him, giving encrypted answers to all his questions, expect one.

“Who did the spell? Who rose the witnesses?”

“Lilith.” The blue-eyed angel responded, hard, firm features that seamed to be sculpted in marble, making Dean ask himself if that was a perpetual quality in all ‘Lord’s soldiers’. “Those seals are being broken by Lilith.”

“And what about your little friend, your work college? Showing up here out of nowhere and helping us out. What? You guys felt sorry for us all of the sudden?” Dean inquired, not understanding the puzzled look that Castiel gave back to him. “Eva? Sam’s guardian angel?”

There was a strong recollection that passed through the man’s face after Dean uttered his final words, and the hunter was about to probe more for information, but Castiel quickly moved his hand up to touch the human in the forehead, waking him up from his dream and ending their conversation.

The very first thing that the blonde saw once he opened his eyes was the dusty ceiling of Bobby’s old house, when he woke up in the sofa of the living room. Letting out a shaky breath, Dean closed his eyelids once again, relaxing back into the uncomfortable cushions, mind racing through the events that were dominating his and his brother’s lives. But the moment didn’t last long, as the full voice of the impertinent lady that kept reappearing  in his thoughts made itself present in reality.

He moved way too quickly to look up from his laid down position, vision still blurred from sleep as the image of the curly head of the short, dark-skinned angel started to form clearly and he saw her there, leaned against a wall in Bobby’s kitchen with a bottle of water between her  thin, long fingers, head pointing almost completely up as she managed to look at Sam, with who she was talking to. The scene seamed so surreal, so out of place to Dean that he had to blink a couple of times, rubbing the tiredness out himself as he got up from the sofa and slowly made his way to the kitchen’s entr y , eyebrows frowned when he noticed the way Sam smiled a cheeky smile after being told something by the girl.

“Hem.”  He oldest sibling cleared his throat, calling out their attention to himself.

“ Dean, look! Eva’s back.”  Sam gave out a tight laugh when he realized Dean’s presence.

“Yeah, I see that.” The man stared at her up and down, intrigued by the fact that, differently from Castiel, Eva had changed her clothes from the last day.

“Good morning, Princess Di.”  Her makeup clean face turned to him with a sarcastic smirk, dimples showing in her cheeks now that he saw her in the light of day.

Dean laughed shortly after hearing the nickname, the provocative tone in her voice not lost on him.

“So, are you going to give us another mission, Charlie, or you just couldn’t stay away?”  Dean leaned against the entrance, mimicking hers stance, his muscles rippling from under his thin sleep shirt and there was a challenge in the way they  stared with  one of their brows raised, without batting an eye.

“What, and miss your midwestern charm, Kansas boy?”  Eva nipped back, her grin widening into a smile as they sized  each other up.

Sam laugh ed openly then, finding the clear tension between his brother and the angel genuinely funny, especially in the way that the woman seamed to consistently come up with better comebacks at every turn.

“ Can I speak to you for a second?”  Dean asked her, a sudden seriousness taking over him, surprising both Eva and Sam. “Privately?”

“ Oh,” She gathered herself quickly, putting her mischievousness facade back on, a smile so big adorning her face that they could see her straight white teeth then, as if she knew what he would want to talk to her about. “Sure, lead the way.” Her medium sized, unpolished, yet feminine nails tapped a couple of times on the lid of the water bottle  she held, her thin writs catching Dean’s attention for a second too long, as he thought about how fragile she looked on the outside, at least until she opened her mouth.

The hunter gestured with his head towards one of the corridors that lead to the living room of the house, where they could be alone without anyone being able to hear them. Eva nodded, making a beeline towards the indicated place, and Dean shared a look with the taller man, noticing that he was puzzled by his older brother’s request, but nothing else was said, and Dean followed her to the corridor.

“Whats up?” She fixed her hair out of her eyebrows, trying to keep the curls of her bangs from her forehead, fingers going nail first into the roots and shaking the threads upwards, creating more volume to the mane that framed her face.

“You knew it had been Lilith this whole time, didn’t you?” Dean  went straight to the point, crossing his arms upon his chest, shoulders seaming to expand with the motion.

“Yes,  b ut I thought it would be wise to refrain that information from your brother.”  Eva didn’t seamed to be faced whatsoever with his question, beginning to play with the plastic bottle in her hands, the sound of the water stirring side to side in the container attesting to that.

“Excuse me?” Dean  wasn’t ready for her unbothered veneer, and his hands that held onto his on arms tightened visibly, knuckles withing with the pressure.

“Listen, during the time that you’ve spent away,”  Her voice dropped in volume then, her soft spoken tone sounding so melodic and calming that it was almost capable of camouflaging it’s true purpose. “Sam has been venturing into some very dangerous activities. You know, with a demon.”

“Ruby?” Dean  took the hint soon enough.

“Mm-hmm.”  She nodded her head, lips pursed in irritation with the mention of the name.

“Look, whatever he has been up to with…”

“Some Basic Instinct type shit, Dean.”  Eva interrupted him, voice low but harsh all of the sudden.

“Wait, you mean…”  The man was clearly confused, trying to place the pieces of the conversation back together as they went, the idea that he was going to the one using an accusing tone in the exchange long forgotten.

“I don’t care what he’s intentions have been to engage in any of this.”  Eva stopped him mid sentence once more, dropping her arms to her sides and walking a step closer to Dean, brown meeting hazel in an intense way, but she kept on, practically whispering but knowing she was being heard clearly. “All I know is that he believes he’s doing the right thing because of Lilith, because of this obsession with killing her he has gotten himself into. But let me tell you, ain’t nothing good about what he’s doing, and since I can’t be one to put the fear of God into him due to fucking free will, you’re going to fix it. Alright?”

Dean didn’t said anything back, didn’t seamed to be able to. His irises scanned her entire face, finally finding some real emotion coming out of her, but it was anger. And the man swallowed whatever he could possibly say to her then, because the realization finally dawned on him with it’s true force now.

They’re weren’t dealing with the same beasts no more, there was no diary that could break down the strengths and weaknesses of these beings. They were all-powerful and all-knowing, and they could see right through his and Sam’s armatures, to the point of seeing everything they ever did or ever thought. And know, one of them was specifically  telling him that his brother’s choices might lead him to a terrible ending. 

So Dean simply stared at her, not knowing what to say next, so she did.

“Good talk.” Ev a’s serious features contoured into a joyless side grin, and she tapped him in the shoulder twice before walking down the hallway back to the kitchen, hands working on unscrewing the lid of her water bottle before taking a long sip, and Dean’s mouth fell agape when he realized how Sam’s eyes lighted up when he saw her get back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to comment <3


End file.
